DeadWood
by cmooncow
Summary: Torchwood collides with Deadpool when the merc with a mouth finds he has business in Cardiff, not that Captain Jack Harkness is complaining. Rated M for both Jack and Deadpool, lord knows they both need a mature rating. The Deadpool character and details are taken from the movie, not the comics.
1. Chapter 1

Jack leaned slightly to the side to fully appreciate the woman sitting a few seats down the bar without being obstructed by the man next to him. She was drinking alone, dressed in black pants so tight they could be leggings and a casual grey t-shirt that hung loosely over her frame, although not loosely enough that Jack couldn't guess what was underneath. She contemplated her drink, not looking at anyone else in the dimly lit bar.

"Don't bother," a gruff voice muttered. Jack didn't even turn to his right. He knew where the voice came from, a man that had sat next to him not long before, his face shaded by a baseball cap pulled low. By his count, they were the only two men in the place with an American accent.

"Why's that? You don't think she's into men like me?" Jack replied, still looking at the woman.

The man with the cap shrugged dramatically enough to catch Jack's attention. "I don't think she likes men. You might have better luck looking… elsewhere."

Quickly, the woman lost Jack's focus. He turned to his right. "Are you flirting with me?" He laughed, giving the man a quick once-over. The man wore jeans that fit him well and a hooded sweatshirt that showed off just a hint of the muscle that lay underneath. His face was still hidden, but Jack thought he caught a flash of teeth before the man took a confident sip of his cocktail, a bright pink one. Jack smiled and took a drink of his whiskey.

"That depends," the man said, "Am I second best to that tight piece of ass over there?" He gestured towards the woman.

"Well, now, that depends. Is that what I would be to you?" Jack countered.

The man lifted his head up slightly, enough to reveal a jaw, lips, and teeth as he laughed. His skin was rippled with pockets and scars, evidence of some sort of incident. Beyond the skin, though, was a well-shaped jaw. Jack's eyes hungrily fished for more information of the face, but came up with nothing above the top lip.

"Handsome guy like you? You're only second best to the real looker in this dump," the stranger said, downing the remainder of his drink and tossing some money on the counter. He slipped off the stool. "I mean me, in case you were wondering."

Jack watched him saunter away. He straightened up, intending to follow, then slouched back down. Something didn't sit right. Most men didn't initiate anything with Jack, rather Jack had to pull out his own charm to get them comfortable. Sure, the rest of humanity was beginning to catch up with Jack's views on sexuality, although they were still barely scraping the surface, but few, if any, were comfortable enough to hit on the impossible future man.

"Cheapskate," the bartender muttered, counting the money left on the counter, "Didn't even tip."

"Maybe he didn't like his drink," Jack suggested.

The burly man behind the counter probably could have been a bouncer, if the place required one. He scratched his short cocoa beard as he scoffed. "Next time I'll poison it, see how he likes that."

Jack chuckled and finished his whiskey. He made sure to tip well. Death by poison did not interest him, wasn't his favorite way to die by any means.

"Good morning, Owen!" Jack shouted joyfully to the constantly sullen doctor.

"Hmph," Owen replied, muttering, "Someone found a friend last night."

Gwen perked up from her seat in front of her computer. She pretended to keep typing her report about their latest missing person case. As it turned out, the victim angered a pack of weevils and was found in the nest. Jack, of course, had to rescue the unfortunate woman by himself, earning more than one frustrated comment about his inflated ego.

Jack smirked before taking a deep breath. "Well, Owen, since you asked, I met not one, but two friends at the bar last night. Boy, you would not believe how much those man –"

"Oi!" Owen interrupted, "No one asked! Christ, you can't say anything around here without it turning into a gay orgy."

"Not all of them are gay," Tosh corrected calmly, still intently focused on her research.

Owen waved a hand. "Too many for my liking, thank you very much."

"You're welcome," Jack replied, disappearing to check on their weevil prisoners. Janet was joined by a temporary cellmate, dubbed Jeffrey. He was recovering from a broken leg, set in a cast by Owen at Gwen's pleading for the creature. Gwen was the reason Jeffrey was allowed sanctuary in the holding cells, although the team hadn't decided what to do with him once he healed. Jack hadn't been completely convinced by Gwen's idea to set him free in Cardiff. Owen wanted to experiment on him, claiming that it would lift so much stress to have two weevils at his disposal to test on in case one of them died. Knowing Owen and his twisted mind, Jack was hesitant to let him have his way, too.

"Morning Janet," Jack said, standing in front of the glass patterned with circular holes to allow for air circulation, "Morning Jeffrey."

The two weevils warily approached the glass, swaying slowly side to side as they did so. Jack planted his feet and watched without focus, his mind wandering elsewhere. He always did his best thinking when faced with potential danger. Today, his mind kept slipping from the normal weevil complaints to the bar, and the mysterious man with a flirty mouth. Jack wondered what color his eyes were. He wondered a lot of things about the guy, but tried to focus on details above the waist.

Janet left her post at the glass window and sat down on the bench, still eyeing Jack cautiously. Jeffrey, on the other hand, let out a low growl, threatening the man in front of him. Jack noticed, but paid no attention. What did he care about a simple weevil threat?

"Jack."

At the sound of his own name, he spun around to face a man slightly shorter than him. He held out a cup of coffee that Jack knew would be exactly to his liking.

"Thank you, Ianto," Jack said with a smile.

"You're welcome, sir. I figured you might need it to deal with the visitor we have."

Jack brought the coffee cup to his lips, considering Ianto's unemotional tone, wondering what lay behind the mask of disinterest he presented. "What sort of visitor?" he asked.

The smallest peek of a smile became visible on Ianto's face. "Well, sir, he's wearing what looks to be a skin-tight spandex suit."

As Ianto had predicted, Jack's smile broadened and he nearly flew out of the room in his hurry to see the spandex-clad visitor. Ianto hung back, sharing a laugh with Janet at the expense of his boss. He liked to think he shared one with her, anyway. In truth, Janet never laughed along with him, which he found incredibly rude, but gave her the benefit of the doubt anyway. Perhaps her weevil manners were impeccable.


	2. Chapter 2

"Fashion just gets weirder every year," Gwen muttered to Tosh, leaning in to see the monitor of the tourist center that served as their cover. As Ianto had once said, it was perfect because what in Cardiff warranted a tourist center? No one would ever visit.

Tosh giggled and Owen, who had just been handling one of the dead weevils from their last crime scene, trotted over to see the monitor. He raised his gooey, gloved hands up over the girls as he peered in to see the monitor. Gwen squealed and lurched out of her chair as a drop of weevil blood dripped onto her shoulder. Tosh quickly scooted her chair away from her dripping coworker.

"What sort of bloke saunters up to a place like this wearing tights?" Owen exclaimed, then shook his head, "Must be one of Jack's friends."

At that moment, Jack entered the room and looked over Owen's shoulder. "Not yet, but I think we will get along just fine." He straightened up and smoothed out his shirt. "How do I look?"

"Like a bossy prick," Owen responded.

Jack flashed a smile and headed to the entrance to greet his new guest. As soon as he passed through the curtain, his smile grew even larger. The surveillance cameras didn't do justice to the man clad in red and black spandex, Jack mused. He had been leaning against the counter, but had twisted to the side to poke at the brochures of Cardiff's finest tourist attractions. The captain couldn't help but notice the toned ass peeking just above the counter. The man did not read the brochures, simply folded some of them over, swapped some of them out, and generally just made a mess. Jack cleared his throat.

"Oh, hello," the man said, putting a finishing touch on his brochure mess. Only then did he turn around, the white eyes in his suit widening as he did so. Jack decided he would have to figure out how that part of the suit worked someday, especially with the technology of the 21st century.

"Captain Jack Harkness. How can I help you?" Jack asked, leaning a hip casually on the counter, bringing himself just a tad closer to the man. He smelled like pine and cinnamon, a strange mix, but nonetheless a pleasantly spicy one.

The man laughed. "Well, now, isn't this a real treat? That coat of yours is just delightful! I like! Deadpool, by the way," he said, sticking out a gloved hand in Jack's direction.

Jack shook the hand, surprised by the firm grip. It lasted just a moment too long, neither man really wanting to let go. "Can't say I've heard of anyone named Deadpool before," Jack commented.

"Family name," Deadpool said as way of explanation, "Can't say I've met a captain before. Ooh, this IS exciting! Those X-men sure were right about Britain being a fun place! Or did they say dull… I really try not to remember what old metal face says. Waste of memory space."

Questions rolled through Jack's mind. X-men? Metal face? And most importantly, Deadpool thought Britain was fun? That could work in Jack's favor. "Not too many captains around here, and I doubt any of them are nearly as accommodating as I am. Now, how may I help you? There are guided tours of the Cardiff area, but I've been told I'm quite the tour guide myself."

"Ooh, tempting, there, captain handsome face. But I didn't come for a tour," Deadpool said, flinging himself over the counter and onto Jack with surprising speed. He pulled a dagger out from his suit and raised it to Jack's throat. Jack, however, was just as quick, pulling his gun out of its holster and pointing it towards Deadpool's forehead. The scuffle, if you could call it that, stalled to a standstill in less than a moment, Jack on his back on the floor with Deadpool situated above him. Neither man breathed any heavier than they had before.

"It's not the first time I've had a knife to my throat," Jack said with a twinkle of laughter, "Although it usually doesn't happen on the first date."

"Funny," Deadpool replied, "I could say the same about the gun. Oh, also, second date."

Ignoring the last comment, Jack glanced up at the surveillance camera, hoping his crew was still watching. He didn't mind the possibility of another death, but he would prefer to avoid such a casualty if he could. "Alright, Deadpool. Now what?"

"Shhh," Deadpool said, tracing his finger down Jack's lips, "I'm thinking. Would be a shame to kill you."

"Would be a shame to die," Jack agreed, noting that a new pressure had formed against his pelvis. Was Deadpool…? No, Jack dismissed the thought as best he could, but could not dismiss the feeling of something hard prodding gently at his waist, something that was certainly a part of the spandex man on top of him.

"Captain pretty face, since I have you here, what cologne do you use? Smells like heaven," Deadpool commented, then continued without giving Jack a chance to reply, "Wait, no, wrong question. What do you know about- oof!"

He was cut off by a very irritated Ianto pushing him off of Jack with his full body force. Deadpool spun to his feet, dagger in hand, but had nowhere to go. Not with guns pointing at him from Gwen, Tosh, and Owen. Ianto raised a gun to the man as well.

"Sir," Ianto said, his way of asking permission.

Jack shook his head and stood up, brushing himself off. "No, Ianto, I think we should keep this one alive."

Ianto lowered his weapon slightly, then quickly raised it again and with a bang, sent a bullet flying at Deadpool. The spandexed man went flying backwards at the close range shot, hitting his head hard on the wall before slumping to the ground.

"Ianto!" Gwen screamed.

He shrugged and turned to go back into the Hub, handing his gun to Gwen as he pushed past her. Gwen looked helplessly at Jack, now holding both her own cold gun and Ianto's much warmer weapon.

Jack shrugged. "He shot him in the shoulder. Painful, but not deadly. Come on, let's get him inside and locked up while he's out." He motioned for Owen and Gwen to give him a hand in hauling Deadpool into the Hub. "Tosh," Jack ordered, "Tell Ianto to clean up his mess."

Tosh directed her gaze to the spatter of blood on the wall of the tourist center. The bullet, having passed cleanly through Deadpool, wedged itself into the wall. That would leave a dent. Just as she was about to hurry into the Hub to pass on the message to Ianto, he came back through with a bucket of cleaning supplies.

"Easier to clean when it's fresh," Ianto said, his voice calm and collected, just like always.


End file.
